Past the Mirrors
by Chellybean17
Summary: Everyone sets up mirrors around themselves, reflecting out what they want others to see. Loki has always been a master at this- but so has Kenna, Princess of Vanaheim. She knows she must marry one of the princes of Asgard, but she's hidden her loathing at the very prospect. What happens when Loki opens her up-and when she looks at the real him, past the mirrors? LokixOC
1. Chapter 1-Princess of Vanaheim

**This is just the brief intro, things will actually start happening pretty soon, so please bear with me- this is my first fanfic! Hope you enjoy Kenna, please review so I can make this story more enjoyable for you! **

"Presenting Princess Kenna of Vanaheim!"

That was her cue. The young woman straightened her deep purple skirts as she rose, making sure they were in perfect order before she entered the throne room. It was a small reception now, just the royal family; the big party would be later. Despite the fact that this was the last place she wanted to be, she still had to play the part.

Kenna held her head high as she walked down the hall, fixing her eyes on the wall at the other side so she could avoid looking at the royal family. She wanted to put off meeting her two suitors – and her future husband, as one of them would become – as long as possible. She sank into a deep curtsy when she reached the Allfather's elegant throne, keeping her eyes downcast, though this time it was out of respect. Odin was legendary throughout the Nine Realms for his strength and wisdom; he wasn't someone she wanted to offend.

"You may rise, Princess," he said in his booming voice, and she did so, once more smoothing her dress down. "We are honored to have such an esteemed lady as yourself in our courts."

"The honor is all mine, your majesty," Kenna said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "My father sends his thanks that you have offered to take such care of me."

"Think nothing of it," Odin said, almost dismissively. "It is the least we could do for our future daughter-in-law." Her stomach tightened a little at that, at how her fate was so perfectly assured, how everyone was certain of it – except her.

"We are very pleased to meet you," Frigga said warmly. Kenna offered her a small smile. The Queen had come from Vanaheim herself; though the differences between the Vanir and the Aesir were subtle, it was comforting to see one of her people, and to know that she would not be completely alone here.

"Let me introduce you to my sons; I am sure you are eager to become acquainted with them," the Allfather said, and that tightness grew. He gestured to his sides, and his sons stepped forward from their places behind the thrones. "My eldest, Thor."

"And future king of Asgard," the man added in his deep voice. Kenna had heard much of this tall, strong blonde man; they said he was brave, unmatched in battle, and the most handsome creature to grace Asgard in centuries, but they also said he was hot-headed and prideful. His arrogance was clear from the self-assured way he leaned down to kiss the back of her hand, as if he knew already that she was his.

Kenna smiled politely back at him, though she couldn't hide the skeptical glint in her blue-grey eyes. She couldn't deny that he was easy on the eyes, but while confidence could be attractive, his went over the line. Still, though, how could she judge him without even speaking to him? "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And Loki, my second son."

Much had been said of Loki, too, but the stories of the slim, dark-haired man had been more varied. Some said he was cunning and manipulative, some said he was a weakling, yet still others said he was an aloof enigma. The only thing everyone could agree on was that he had a brilliant mind and was a magical prodigy. That was interesting, as many said the same of her. However, there was something about him, a darkness, perhaps, that made her wary.

"My lady," the prince murmured, brushing his lips over her hand. Just as with Thor, she solidly avoided meeting his gaze. There was something so intimate about two people staring into each other's eyes, and she wanted to avoid intimacy until she at least got to know them some.

"Eiona will show you to your quarters," the Allfather said. "You are free to do as you wish, but we are holding a feast in your honor this evening and we request your attendance."

"Thank you, your majesty," Kenna smiled, curtsying again before she turned and followed the servant woman out of the hall.


	2. Chapter 2-The Library

**This chapter definitely did not turn out the way I thought it would! Keep on reviewing, I really appreciate it!**

The first thing Kenna did when she reached her quarters was take off her heavy silk gown, replacing it with a gauzy, simple light blue dress. Her golden hair came down from its elegant, pinned-up style, hanging around her shoulders, more curly than usual. She had no love for the overly dolled-up courtly fashion, and was relieved to be out of it.

She sat down on her bed with a sigh, leaning against the carved wooden post; she was in no way looking forward to the coming days. Neither of the brothers stood out to her as she had almost hoped one of them would, so that left her in her predicament. Glancing at the clock, she saw she had plenty of time until the party. There were many places she was interested in seeing, but one towered above them all: the legendary Asgardian Library. It was said to hold every piece of literature ever written on Asgard, as well as a huge collection of written works from the other realms.

Smiling to herself – nothing excited her quite so much as learning new things – she made her way to the library. Using a simple navigation spell, she got there in a few minutes; she would want to wander the palace later, but now was not the time. It would be awkward if she got lost and was late to the feast.

"Oh. My. Gosh."

Her voice was hushed, filled with reverence and awe as she stared wide-eyed at the marvel in front of her. The library was open in the middle, dotted with tables where scholars and students studied. Around the edges was the real beauty, though. Spiraling towers and mountainous shelves of books twisted about the outside of the domed room, creating secretive corners where one could lose them self in solitude.

A smile cracked Kenna's face, and, for the first time since arriving on Asgard, she shone with pure joy. She reached out her hand, letting her fingertips brush the ancient tomes as she walked down the aisle. She loved knowing that her fingers touched more knowledge than she could ever hope to gain, even in her long lifetime.

One book caught her eye, the glittering gold lettering on the spine proclaiming it to be Illusion Theory: Spellcasting and the Logic behind It. She grabbed it hungrily, without a second thought, then sat down on one of the plush chairs, pulling her legs up underneath of her. While she was superb at healing, elemental magic, and most other disciplines, she had yet to master casting illusions.

She skipped the introduction – she already knew about the author, a famed magician from several eons ago – and went straight to the meat of it. She flipped past the most basic of spells (ones that she had already mastered), until one caught her interest. _Projecting Your Own Image_. That could be fun.

Kenna read the pages with a creased brow, her chin resting on her hand. The spell was complex; it required extreme concentration and careful hand gestures, but, once accomplished, it became successively easier. As she continued reading the tips, a feeling came over her, like someone was watching her.

She looked up sharply, her eyes darting around the library until – there. Standing next to the wall and looking at her intently was none other than Loki Odinson.

Slamming her book shut, she stood abruptly and marched over to him, noting with satisfaction a spark of fear in his eyes. "If you plan on observing me whilst I read, you may at least do me the pleasure of alerting me to your presence!" Kenna said angrily, though her voice did not rise over a normal speaking level. "On the second thought, you can avoid watching me at all!" It was just like him to skulk around trying to get a glimpse of her; men, especially high born men, seemed to have no sense of privacy. How many times had she told off a lord's son because he couldn't get it past his thick skull that spying on her when he thought she wouldn't notice was not in the least attractive?

"I meant no harm, my lady," he said crisply. "I was merely browsing the shelves and noticed you – "

"Oh, and because you _noticed_ me you thought it would be alright to stand there and watch me?" she interrupted, her eyes flashing.

"Do you treat all men in this way, Princess Kenna? Is that why your father sent you here, because you could not come by a husband any other way?" Her anger spread to him, and he lost much of his coolness in favor of a scathing tone.

Kenna's face was now bright red, though not in embarrassment. "How dare you think to say something like that! I am unwed because I choose to be, and no other reason; men like you are the very reason I have not chosen to marry up until this point."

"Men like _me_?" Loki said menacingly, but Kenna held his gaze, refusing to back down. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Men who think it is perfectly fine to hide behind a corner and gaze wistfully at a woman from afar because they are too scared to bloody talk to her!" Her voice escalated until she was nearly shouting. She set her book down on her chair, still conscientious about that at least, and pushed past Loki roughly. She didn't have to stay here and put up with him any longer. He tried to say something to her as she left, but she ignored him; nothing he could say would make her anger abate.

So much for learning how to cast illusions.

Loki cursed himself under his breath as he watched Princess Kenna storm out of the library. He should've gone after her, but neither her pride nor his would allow that to turn out favorably. Maybe it had been a bit creepy of him to just watch her from a distance, but he hadn't been able to help himself; once he'd seen the look of wonder on her face when she'd walked into the library, he had to see more. The way she had lovingly caressed the books as she walked down the aisle, the sheer delight in her blue-grey eyes when she happened upon a volume that interested her, the way her golden brows knit together as she concentrated – she was truly enchanting to behold.

But so fiery, and so stubborn; he could still feel the heat in his body from their confrontation. She had incited the argument, but he had egged her on, so they were both to blame – though she did start it, so the blame was more on her. He could normally keep his cool in arguments, but her words about "men like him" struck him. _Was_ he just one of those dawdling fools who could never muster up the courage to speak to a woman? Compared to his brother, certainly so. Thor never had any problems getting a conversation started with any female.

Kenna was an enigma, that was for sure, nothing like the mewling quims that filled the courts of Asgard. She'd shown herself to be gentle with the books and well-spoken when she attacked him, and he'd heard of her wit and liveliness, but she certainly did not lack a propensity for blazing anger. And this woman, the most interesting female he'd met, would likely end up married to his idiot brother Thor. Why would she choose the second son over the future king?

He picked up the book she had been reading, smiling when he saw the spell she'd been studying. It just so happened that image projection was one of his specialties. Now he knew something Thor didn't, and maybe, just maybe, he'd have a chance with that amazing woman. It was just a matter of her not hating him.


	3. Chapter 3-Preparation

**Here's a short one for now, hope you enjoy ;)**

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The further Kenna got from the library, the more she started thinking that maybe she'd overreacted. She had a right to be mad at Loki, that was certain, but maybe yelling at him hadn't been the best thing to do. And, well, she hated to admit it, but there had been an incredibly adorable look of affection on his face, at least before she chewed him out for being a creep.

She still felt hot, almost alive, from the angry energy that had coursed through her body, and it felt good. The credit wouldn't go to him though; no matter how sweet he might have looked in a single split second, she wasn't going to let that tempt her into falling in love. Like was okay, but love was something she wasn't prepared for, and hadn't come here expecting. Love made both parties too vulnerable, too susceptible to hurt.

She found a flurry of maids waiting for her when she reached her quarters once more. "Princess Kenna, there you are, my lady!" cried a middle-aged woman, some of the stress leaving her face. "Come, come, we must get you ready for the feast, my lady; you are aware that a dance follows the feast, are you not?"

"Yes, I am aware of this," she said. She'd studied most of Asgard's customs before she came, so this wasn't news to her. "May I get your name?"

"My name, princess? It is Dagrún. But why ever would you want to know?" The woman seemed shocked by Kenna's request.

"Well, I need something to address you by," Kenna smiled. "And you will be serving me while I live here, will you not? Then I should know your name." While she couldn't keep up with all of the servants assigned to her, as they were far too numerous and often swapped out with one another, she could at least know the name of the woman in charge of them all.

The baffled look on Dagrún's face didn't go away, but it was tinged with curiosity. Most noblewomen could care less about their servants. She gave a small curtsy then said, "My lady, with your permission, my girls will prepare you for the celebration. Gunnhildr, Bergdis, pull out the dress! You parents specifically requested that you wear this gown to your first presentation to the entire court."

Two girls hurried forward with a garment that made Kenna blink in surprise. It was a royal blue (a color that worked marvelously with her hair, eyes and overall complexion), with delicate glimmering gold embroidery along the edges. It had a sapphire-jeweled golden pin on its single shoulder, and it swooped down to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her bosom. The cinch under her bosom emphasized even more what nature had gifted her with. Waterfalls of silk flowed from the cinch to her feet, lightening to a light icy blue. It was the perfect dress for a courtly dinner.

"It is beautiful," Kenna murmured. Normally court clothing was detestable, but it seemed things were more modern on Asgard clothing-wise; on Vanaheim they still wore such barbaric devices as corsets and hoop skirts.

"We had hoped you would think so, my lady," Dagrún smiled. "Now, if we have your permission…"

"You may get me ready; believe me, this is not my first go-around," she said with a smile. A princess quickly got used to other people dressing her, arranging her hair, and doing her makeup; it was nothing new to her.

About an hour later, Kenna was ready. The dress fit as perfectly on her as she had hoped, hugging her curves without giving too much away, and altogether making her look like a goddess. Her golden blonde hair, which had lost its curl and gone back to its normal straightness, was carefully arranged in an elegant half-up half-down style, and the subtle touches of makeup on her face gave her a gorgeous golden glow.

"I hope it is satisfactory, my lady," Dagrún said, slightly out of breath, as she shooed away the other maids.

"It is perfect," she replied warmly. "Truly, it is. I could not have asked for better." There was no complaint she could make, no flaw she could possibly find with the way she looked. NAME had done splendidly.

A polite knock sounded at the door. The serving woman's eyes lit up. "That will be your escort, my lady. Thank you very much for the praise; I do hope you enjoy your night, princess." Curtsying, she left the room through the servants' door, shutting it gently behind her.

Kenna eyed the door warily, letting her hand hover over the knob before she opened it. She hadn't been expecting an escort, but she dearly hoped it wasn't something as ridiculous as a group of guards; she could find her way to the banquet hall with no problem, and she could protect herself with even less trouble. She sighed, opening the door; she would just have to deal with it, like she did so much of the time.

She wasn't quite prepared for what awaited her out in the hallway. Two young men, both in their dress armor, smiling at her; they were none other than the Princes Thor and Loki. So her courtship had begun.

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I'll try to reply to all the reviews I get (easy this time since there's just the one!)

Belabsouza – I really was _not_ expecting her to get that mad either! Thank you for your support, and I will try my best to keep updating every few days or so.


	4. Chapter 4-Sparks

The first thing she laid eyes on when she opened the door was two brothers scuffling with one another, nudging and foot-stepping as they muttered under their breath. When they saw her, though, they quickly straightened up.

Kenna smirked. "You can both stop with this fighting; it is not going to affect who I choose." She had almost expected them to try to fight it out between themselves, as if whoever won would have the automatic right to her regardless of her feelings on the matter.

There was no immediate response to be had, for both men were staring at her, their jaws practically dropped. Thor was the first to recover. "Princess Kenna, you look beautiful."

"Thank you," she said genuinely, though she didn't let it go to her head; compliments were just one of the many methods men used when they attempted to woo her, and she was well aware of that fact.

She turned her gaze on Loki, who was still openly gawking at her. Again, there was a tender reverence in his eyes that stirred something within her, and she felt herself soften without trying to. Gently, playfully, she asked him, "Still having a problem with staring, Prince Loki?" Kenna bit her lip, hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way and ignite another argument; the longer since it had passed, the worse she felt about it.

He blinked, shaking his head, and a slight blush crept on to his pale cheeks. "My apologies, Princess Kenna; once more I couldn't help myself but to stare at your stunning beauty. Truly, you are the most perfect creature I have ever laid eyes on."

Now it was her turn to blush. It wasn't just the words he said, it was the completely honest way he said them and the adoration that weighed on every syllable. "Thank you," she murmured, looking up shyly. "And you may call me Kenna, both of you; I see no need for formalities." Not when one of them would be her husband and the other her brother-in-law.

Thor looked sour but determined as he held out his arm for her. "We will escort you to the hall, my lady, and you may call us by our names only as well, unless my brother has an objection to that."

"I do not, brother," Loki replied smoothly as he too held out his arm. He looked at her with sparkling green eyes. "My lady?"

Kenna smiled, laying her arms on theirs, and they began to walk down the hall. She was surprised to find that she already had a preference for one brother, but that did not mean she would completely ignore the other; she had learned the hard way that men were not always what they seemed. Loki was renowned for his silver tongue, so it wouldn't be out of the question for his affection to be all an act. To be sure, Thor obviously thought she was attractive, so maybe he had feelings that were even more real, he just didn't have the capabilities to express them fully.

"Are you excited for your first Asgardian celebration?" Thor asked her after a moment.

"I am a little nervous, to be honest," Kenna admitted. "Though this is nothing new to me." Even though she had been attending grand functions like this since she was small, she still felt more comfortable curled up with a book. It was just a lot of work sometimes, putting on the act; she had to be perfectly balanced between courteous, so as not to upset anyone, and playfully fun, so as not to bore anyone to death, all while keeping cool and calm and balancing twenty conversations at once.

"The people will love you," Loki said gently.

"And if they do not, a little tap from Mjolnir ought to sort them out," Thor said, completely serious.

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "I do not think bashing anyone's brains in with your hammer is going to be necessary, Thor, but I do appreciate the offer."

"Don't appreciate it," Loki said, his voice dry. "Hitting people with his hammer is all my brother knows how to do."

"And all that you can do is party tricks," his brother snorted. "How impressive is that compared to my mighty Mjolnir?"

Kenna rolled her eyes, an amused smiling playing on her lips. "Now, now, boys, no need to get into an argument over who has the biggest hammer; that's not proper talk for a lady to hear." So trying to get to know both of them at the same time was clearly not going to work; all they would so was try to one-up each other.

They stopped in front of an ornately carved door, where two guards stood. Upon seeing the royals before them, they bowed. "Your highnesses," one said in a deep voice as they pushed open the door. "Welcome."

"Do you know where we are to sit?" she asked them as they entered the decadent hall. She tried to stop herself from marveling at all the splendor, but everything, from the elegant silk tapestries to the glittering guests was simply beautiful. It was all so different from Vanaheim, but that didn't make it any less wondrous.

Thor laughed, his voice booming. "We do not sit yet, fair Kenna! First we must speak with the other guests for a short time, then we will dine. Ah, I see some of my friends over there! Let us go and greet them."

Without waiting for the others' consent, he rushed over to his friends, all but dragging Kenna and Loki behind him. The two shared an identical look of annoyed cynicism, and while Kenna couldn't hide the grin that lit up her face, she did her best to stop the laughter that bubbled up inside of her.

"Sif! Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral!" Thor grinned, dropping his arm from Kenna's to greet his friends. Kenna had heard some about them; Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, they were called collectively. Sif was obviously the athletic, dark haired woman; Hogun was the solemn, Asian man; Volstagg had the large gut and the flamboyant ginger hair; and Fandral was the blonde who rivaled the Thor in looks, and in his reputation with the ladies. "This is Princess Kenna; I do not think you have met her yet."

She smiled as the four warriors turned to look at her with interest. Fandral held out his hand and, as was expected of her, she placed her hand in it so he could kiss her. "So you are the woman who is to marry my friend! The Allfather chose well, I must say!"

She flinched, pulling her hand away from him. Was that what everyone here thought? "Actually, I am afraid you may have heard wrong. I may yet choose to wed Loki over Thor, but whatever I decide, the choice will be mine."

"Really? You must be joking!" Fandral laughed. "You must be a bit daft in the brain if you would even consider picking that cowardly serpent over the next king! What, did mother drop you on the head when you were young?"

"Don't you dare talk about him in that way!"

"If you say another foul word about her, you will regret it in innumerable ways."

They looked at each other quizzically, both seeming surprised but more than a little pleased to find that the other was defending their honor. A slight smile touched Kenna's lips as she looked at him. He was so sweet and noble, and…she liked it. She liked him; she had to admit it to herself. Despite the fact that she could take care of herself, she liked that he still wanted to take care of her; and even though she knew he could defend himself, she still found herself wanting to shield him from harm. In that moment, she felt something inexplicable click between them, well, re-click, in his case; she felt that it had happened for him the moment he first laid eyes on her.

Fandral was still laughing. "Oh my, look how they – oof! _Sif!_"

She jabbed him sharply in the side, causing the others in their party to laugh jovially. "Enough, Fandral! You know not when to silence yourself. My apologies, Princess; my friend lacks control over his tongue."

"I believe he has already tasted too much of the wine," Thor added, catching Kenna's eye but not holding her attention, for when Loki spoke, she found her gaze drawn back to him.

"Wine or no wine, he had best not insult Kenna again or I will hurt him in every way I know," he said darkly.

The blonde sighed. "While I do appreciate your zeal to punish Fandral, I think you have forgotten to mention that I, too, will bring my fury down on him, not only if he says foul words of me, but if he even implies any towards you."

Sif raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. Well, Thor, it looks as if you may be behind already in your effort's to win Kenna's affections."

"No, not behind," he said, shaking his head. "I am merely older, and therefore wiser, than my dear little brother, so I know that a lady's love must be won gently and over time."

"You? Wise?" Loki scoffed. "I have never known you to be wise, nor have you ever won a lady's love 'gently and over time.'"

Seeing Thor's face start the early stages of turning red, Kenna knew she needed to take action unless she wanted to see a fight started between the two princes. She was used to being desired (though not necessarily for the reasons she would like), so it would bring no joy to her heart to see them spar, either with words or bodies, in her name. She stepped between them and crossed her arms, looking at each of them in turn. "If you are thinking of battle, I advise you to stop," she said firmly, her voice offering no option for disagreement. "I do not want to see you fight." A playful smile crept on to her face. "Now, who would like to introduce me to the nobles here?"

The brothers deflated slowly, exchanging wary, accusing gazes. "We would be happy to oblige," Loki said formally.

"I will join you," Sif said quickly, smiling at the princess. Kenna was glad she would be coming, so she didn't have to be the sole focus of the princes' attentions.

Volstagg and Fandral had already started to veer away, so Hogun spoke for them. "Volstagg has caught wind of an apparently delectable pastry; we will join you at the table."

So Kenna plastered a smile to her face and prepared to play her part as she greeted the powerful families of Asgard.


	5. Chapter 5-Lies and Tricks

Kenna was immensely relieved to finally be able to sit down. They had not been speaking to the other guests for a large amount of time, but it still felt like an eternity. Every person there, it seemed like, wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious Vanir princess, and apparently none of them could wait until the party afterwards or even the feast itself. The one good thing was that she didn't have to deal with older family members thrusting their sons upon her; they all knew that she was taken, and none would dare defy the king.

She was seated near the head of the large table, though it was clear she had thrown off the normal seating arrangement. Thor and Loki sat on either side of her, and, apparently in an effort to place her with those her own age and to make her more comfortable, Sif and the Warriors were across from them. Odin and Frigga, of course, sat at the head together.

The Allfather stood, and everyone quieted, looking at him expectantly. "Greetings, everyone, and thank you for being in attendance. As most of you are aware, this celebration is being held in honor of Princess Kenna of Vanaheim, who will in due time become Princess of Asgard. She is a young woman of great skill and refinement, and she will be the perfect bride for one of my sons. If you have not met her yet, you shall have the chance to do so after the feast. Enjoy!" He sat down, and at that cue the platoons of servants stepped forward with their arsenal of fine dishes.

Kenna was hardly concentrating on the food, though; his words kept echoing in her head. _Princess of Asgard, perfect bride, perfect bride… _She was used to pressure, but not this much, not all crashing down on her at once. What if she wasn't a perfect bride? What if both of them ended up disliking her and she was sent back to Vanaheim in disgrace? What if –

"Kenna," a soft voice and an even softer touch drew her out of her quickly spiraling panic. "Are you well? You look a bit flushed."

Her cheeks turned redder, but it was with embarrassment. She offered Loki a wry smile. "I am fine, thank you." Lies, lies, lies.

"No, I do not think you are," he said, gently persistent. "I know the look of one who suddenly sees the weight of expectations and is frightened by them. Do you fear that you will not measure up to those of my father?"

She fiddled with her skirt, forgoing all training to keep her hands still in her perplexion. A large part of her wanted to divulge her worries and fears to him, because she felt like she could trust him and that he would listen without judgment, but at the same time, who knew? She had walls for a reason, and couldn't just let them tumble down because a prince with a gentle smile looked at her like she was the sun.

Before Kenna could figure out what to say, Loki offered her that gorgeous smile and laid his hand on hers, sending a thrill up her arm. "Do not worry yourself, lovely princess; you need not spill your heart's secrets to me. I will not press."

Smiling, she flipped her hand over and gave his a gentle squeeze. "Thank you. You know not how much I appreciate that." Attempting to brighten her demeanor, she gave a wide smile and added, "Besides, this is a time of celebration! We should be having fun!"

"I enjoy myself the most when I am talking to you," he said slyly, not removing his hand from hers. His gaze narrowed as he looked past her. "However, I see my brother is trying to gain your attention, so I suppose I must relinquish you to the beast. My advice is to use small words."

"Don't be so mean!" she scolded him, laughing despite herself, before turning to Thor. With her brilliant smile, she said, "I am sorry I did not respond to you earlier; your brother was holding my attention quite tightly." Not just her attention, either; her left hand was still sitting in her lap, her fingers entwined in his. It wasn't exactly proper, but then again, she supposed more physical contact than usual would be allowed since she was picking her husband.

Thor glowered at his younger brother, who was pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with Volstagg and Fandral over the best way to kill a boar. When Loki showed no signs of noticing, Thor huffed and gave up. "Kenna, have you ever tried Asgardian food?"

She shook her head. "No I have not." Her eyes flickered to the rich, hearty spread of food that was on the table before her. "We typically take much lighter fare on Vanaheim; I would not even know where to start here."

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that made her want to join in too. "I would be pleased to offer you some guidance in that matter! Here, lend me your plate."

While he set about filling her dish with the finest delicacies Asgard had to offer, Sif caught her eye and smiled. "Have those two buffoons worn you out yet with their jockeying for your favor?"

"No, not quite!" she laughed. "I must admit, it is not really a new feeling, though it's not one I enjoy very much. Surely you have many admirers as well, as beautiful and strong as you are. I hear you are quite the warrior."

"Me? Oh no!" She shook her head. "Most of the men are too afraid of me to have feelings for me. And, well…what I do is not the acceptable thing here for a woman, especially one of noble birth. But I do not dwell on what others think of me; I have beaten all of their expectations many times over."

Kenna nodded understandingly. "My father was not overly pleased when I started learning magic outside of healing, but intellect and magical skill are very respected on Vanaheim, so he wasn't going to make me stop. He just wished I would stick to more feminine areas."

"It's the complete opposite here," Sif said. "Strength and battle power are what we value more than anything. Except in women, of course, so you will not suffer for it. Men, though, are barely considered men if they cannot use a sword."

"Yes, the brainless, lumbering Jotun are placed above those who actually have intelligent thoughts on a regular basis," Loki commented dryly.

The warrior rolled her eyes. "Do not start with that again, Loki; you're just sore because everyone adores your brother."

"I merely point out that the brutes would be nowhere were it not for the countless intellects that have done everything for them, from formulating battle strategy to designing the very weapons they use to destroy."

"Loki you're hopeless," Sif huffed. "Kenna I warn you now: there is nothing of worth in this man. All of his skills lie in cheating and trickery. You would be better off with Thor as your husband." With that, she turned to Hogun and began speaking with him.

Kenna glanced over at Loki, curious to how he would react to Sif's blunt words. His face was a calm sheet of glass, placid and emotionless – at least at first glance. She knew all about the ways one might hide their true feelings, and so could look past them, seeing the hurt and trepidation that glimmered in his eyes.

"Why are you worried?" she asked him softly, so no one else at the table could hear them. "Do you think that I agree with Lady Sif?"

"Most of Asgard seems to," he said, though his words sounded forced, like he was trying very hard to keep the emotion out of them.

"Well, I am not most of Asgard, am I?" Kenna said with a soft smile. She traced her fingers on the back of his palm. "I may have only met you today, but I am positive that lies and tricks are not all that you are."

A hesitant, hopeful smile spread on to his face. He looked like he was about to say something but before he could, his brother pulled her attention away – literally.

Eagerly gripping her shoulder with his wide hand, Thor turned her around with a charming, almost innocent grin on his face. "I have finished, Kenna! Let me show you how delicious the food of Asgard is."

Only half of her mind remained focused on the descriptions and tastes that Thor provided her; the rest of her couldn't stop thinking of the man everyone else took for granted.

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**The ending was bad, I know, but I really wanted to get this posted! Please continue to follow and review, I really appreciate your support.**


	6. Chapter 6-My Darling

"Thor, no, stop, I cannot eat another thing!" Kenna laughingly pushed away the plate that he offered her. "My gown will burst if I eat another bite!"

Thor sighed, but relented. "My lady, you have such a small appetite; you have barely eaten a thing! Has the food been unsatisfactory?"

She shook her head. "It has been delicious, but even eating what little I have I fear I will not be able to dance when the time comes." She'd never been one for gorging herself, but that was made especially clear when compared to the Asgardians with their enormous appetites.

"The ballroom has been spelled to drive out the weariness that eating causes," Loki explained as he took a sip of rich Asgardian wine. The princess noticed that he, like herself, had chosen lighter dishes and even then refrained from eating them in large quantity.

"My brother speaks true," Thor nodded. "We would not wish for our dancing to be marred by full stomachs."

"Watching you dance is like watching a drunken elephant stumble about the room," Loki smirked. "If you have padded shoes, Kenna, I would suggest you wear them; otherwise, your toes will be made flat."

"Your tongue is sharper than any sword I have ever seen," she remarked, eyebrows raised. "But you do not need to be so mean to your brother; I am sure he can dance just as well as you." Well, maybe not, what with the natural feline grace Loki seemed to have about him. But regardless, as cuttingly humorous as Loki's little comments were, he made them far too often, and sometimes she felt he crossed the line between bluntly honest and plain cruel. Kenna never could abide by fighting, and she didn't want her husband and brother-in-law to constantly be sharing spiteful words.

A crease formed between the younger prince's brows as he looked at her, a curious expression on his face. He seemed confused and a bit amused. Slowly, he said, "You do not like what I said? You did not find it humorous?"

She allowed herself (and him) a slight smile. "I do not deny that your jests are amusing, I just wish they weren't so mean-spirited. I realize that you and your brother might…squabble while I make my choice, but it doesn't have to be so sharp and cruel."

"You need not defend me," Thor said. "My brother's jibes mean nothing to me." Somehow, Kenna didn't quite believe him, but she didn't voice those thoughts; let him keep his manliness.

"If you wish for me to stop, I shall," Loki said softly, seriously, his intense eyes boring into hers.

She laughed softly as she met his gaze. "I would not wish for you to become dull as a brick, my prince, but perhaps a bit of cordiality might temper your tongue."

His eyes shone when she said _my prince_, and he nodded gravely. "Not a drop of venom shall leave my lips, my fair lady."

Ah, there he was with the possessives and the adjectives; together they turned 'my lady' from words of common courtesy into something that thrilled her and made her blush. "Thank you for that," she murmured. "I loathe fighting, especially among family." While she wasn't necessarily the perfect lady who never said a foul word to anyone (when she got angry, she was a flaming sight to behold), she tried to avoid conflict when possible and wished others would do the same. It meant much to her that Loki would be willing to stop his jabs, which he so obviously enjoyed, just because she asked him to.

She turned to the head of the table when she heard the sound of a large chair being moved; it was Odin, rising from his seat. "Have our humble offerings of food been satisfactory?" he asked with a jovial grin, receiving applause and several loud cheers of agreement. "Excellent! Ladies and lords, please make your way to the grand ballroom, where we have many delightful entertainments prepared for your enjoyment."

When Kenna rose, the two princes jumped up with her, immediately offering her their arms. "Thank you, m'lords; you are both such the gentlemen."

"It is only common courtesy for a beautiful maiden such as yourself," Loki said smoothly.

"Yes, indeed; you are very lovely, Princess Kenna," Thor added, clearly trying not to be outdone by Loki, but he just didn't have the way with words that came naturally to his younger brother.

The ballroom was just as grand and gorgeous as the hall, with shining, vaulted gold walls, richly embroidered tapestries hanging from the ceiling, and a floor patterned with glimmering, brightly-colored stone. The dancing floor was left open in the middle, but there were cushioned chairs set up all around the perimeter for anyone who tired, as well as a small orchestral ensemble that was warming up on their golden instruments.

Murmuring, the crowd poured into the ballroom, moving to stand along the edges. "We dance first, for half a song," Thor said softly. "Then I hand you off to my brother. The other lords and ladies will join us after that."

Kenna nodded. That seemed about right. She had worked hard to master the waltzes that were so popular in Asgard, though it had not been overly hard; she'd always been fairly graceful, and of course had danced since she was small.

The king and queen sat down in the thrones on their raised dais (they would maybe join in later, after the youth got it started), and the concertmaster took his cue. He raised his baton, and the orchestra began to play a sweet, light waltz.

Thor quickly placed his hand at the acceptable mid-back, she rested hers on his large shoulder, and they clasped their remaining hands together as they spun out on to the floor. Despite what Loki had said, Thor was actually a pretty good dancer, and she said as much. "You're not half as bad as I thought you might be," she murmured playfully.

"Did you truly believe my brother? Ha! These moves are necessary on the field of battle, of which he knows little," the prince scoffed.

"Not all honor comes from the battlefield," Kenna countered, a spark in her eyes. "Do you think less of me, because I am not a warrior?"

He spun her away, her sapphire gown swirling around her, then pulled her back to him, confusion and amusement on his face. "Of course not, dear princess; you do not strive to be a warrior, nor is it necessary for you to be one. I have heard how accomplished you are in your studies and in sorcery."

"Thank you; I do try," she smiled warmly. While she truly was enjoying his company and did like talking and dancing with him, Thor must have taken her smile and tone of voice to mean something completely different, for he moved his large hand down her back until it was resting on top of her bum and gave her a confident grin.

Kenna felt her cheeks warm and her face flush. She could not believe he would have the audacity to do such a thing! The arrogance of him! They had barely met, yet he thought that he could just feel her up, and in public, too? Everyone at court could see them, and who knew what they were thinking. Actually, it wasn't that hard to guess; the mere act of him putting his hand past the point of decency clearly sent the message 'she's mine.' But she wasn't. Each word she spoke was carefully controlled as she tried her best to keep her anger from slipping out. That could wait until they were in a more private setting. "Please remove your hand from my posterior, Prince Thor."

"Do you not like it?" he asked, bewildered. "But you are my princess; you may place your hand on my rear if it would make you feel better."

Her mouth tightened into a hard line. "Thor, I am _not_ your princess, so please stop treating me as such. I do not appreciate this."

He shrugged, still not moving his hand. "You are not my princess yet, but we will wed, I do not doubt it. We are perfect for one another; we are both beautiful, we are both beloved by the people, and we will both make perfect rulers of Asgard."

Luckily, she did not have a chance to let the scathing remark that was at the tip of her tongue loose, for the orchestra transitioned to the second movement of its waltz, a rich, smooth melody, signaling that it was time for Thor to hand her off to Loki. She slid gratefully into his arms, visibly relaxing at his light, gentle touch. As they began to dance, she noted how smooth and graceful his movements were, and how the two of them flowed together in harmony.

"Are you alright, dear Kenna?" he asked her, looking with concern at her still-flushed cheeks. "I noticed my brother's, ah, less than gentlemanly touch."

"He was an ass," Kenna muttered, confident that Loki wouldn't share their conversation with anyone.

The dark haired prince grinned and laughed. "Never have more accurate words been uttered. But I thought you did not wish to see quarreling?"

"That wish stops as soon as there is legitimate reason for anger, and trust me, there was," she said, and she could feel the knot of anger uncoiling as she let loose just a little. "Thank you for having some common decency."

"I would not dream of affronting you, love." His face froze, as if the last word had slipped off his lips without him meaning to say it. He began to apologize. "Oh – I-"

"You're fine," Kenna said gently, looking at him with a soft smile.

"I just thought that you, well, might be offended…"

"No, no, not by that," she murmured. "Truth be told, I…I sort of like the way that sounds, coming from you." It seemed so sincere when he said it; she had a feeling that if Thor called her 'love' it would feel like he was talking down to her. With Loki, it was touchingly sweet and tender.

He smiled. "I like the way it sounds too. And I promise you, if Thor insults you again, knowingly or not, I will help you get your revenge. He does not deserve such a stunning flower as yourself, but then, neither do I."

Regretfully, the waltz ended, and Loki stepped back with a bow. "I am afraid that now, my lady, I must share you with the court."

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**So I could continue another chapter with the dance (Loki and Kenna might find their way to a lonely spot together ;) or I can just go on to another day. Please let me know which you'd prefer, and don't forget to keep reviewing! :)**


	7. Chapter 7-Confused

**Yay, finally got another chapter up! (I wrote this in about day) This one is...unexpected. If you like it, let me know, that way I'll keep going with it! Like always, I appreciate your reviews, follows and favorites! Even if you don't like it, I'd love a review telling me how to improve :) Enjoy!**

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"I _do_ hope your husband recovers, sleeping sickness is such a terrible affliction," Kenna smiled warmly as she patted the duchess's hand. _Now please, please leave me alone for a minute._ At first Kenna had genuinely felt sorry for the woman; but then she wouldn't stop talking about it, and that was the final straw for a night full of annoyances. No ball on Vanaheim was this long, or consisted of so much standing around rather than actual dancing. She felt like she was going to burst if she spent another minute sympathizing with strangers about their relatives.

The noblewoman smiled her thanks and turned away, leaving Kenna with a rare moment of not being involved in anyone's conversation. Her gaze flickered around – no one was paying any attention to her at the moment – and she decided to take a break. It would be brief, so as not to offend anyone, but she could easily brush it off as feeling hot and stepping out to get some fresh air, which wouldn't even be a lie.

Stepping quickly, she slipped out of a side door onto a balcony covered in ivy and fragrant night flowers that she thought was empty, until she stepped out a little further and realized that she wasn't alone. Curled up on the marble bench was Loki, clearly deeply enthralled by the book in his hands. He looked up sharply, and she could all but see the scorn on his lips – until he realized it was her, and he broke into a chuckle.

It took her all of two seconds to realize why he was so amused, and it was but a second after that that the warm rush of blood colored her cheeks. "This is not – I was not – oh, stop laughing at me!" she finally grinned.

"I am sorry, my princess," he said, trying to control his mirth, though it still danced in his bright green eyes. "It is just that this situation reminds me terribly of one I experienced earlier today, only now the roles have switched."

She gave a large sigh as she looked at him. "You know I feel awful about that; what I said to you was inexcusable, and I apologize. I think I may have misjudged you." He wasn't at all creepy like she'd thought he was; he was actually one of the sweetest people she'd ever met. True, he had said some fairly awful things to her, but she'd been rotten as well; people were always more cruel when someone else was being cruel with them.

He raised an eyebrow. "I do hope that is the case. Your first impression of me did not seem overly pleasant."

She laughed softly as she sat down next to him, murmuring a spell to keep her dress clean on the stone; she didn't want to ruin her gown, or give her maids heart attacks trying to get a stain out of the silk. "It was not, but like I said, I believe I was wrong." Kenna glanced curiously over at his book. "What were you reading, my prince?" Mmm, how lovely it felt to call him her prince.

"A book on the Asgardian form," he responded, flipping through to the spot he'd stopped at: a detailed description, complete with diagrams, of the design and function of an Asgardian's skeletal structure. "I had hoped to learn healing, but it seems I must know the body first."

A small smile formed on her lips. "You cannot hope to heal the body if you do not know how it works, but that is only part of it. You have to feel the energy, too." She placed a hand on his shoulder, where she sensed a dull, throbbing pain. "A sparring injury?"

Loki nodded, looking amazed. "But that is from a week ago!"

"It still hurts though, right?"

He seemed reluctant to admit it, but he nodded again. "It is not so bad; I am a prince of Asgard, I can take a little pain."

Men. Even he, it seemed, was not immune to that masculine need to deny ever feeling any pain. Kenna murmured a healing spell, smiling as she felt his body's natural energy return. "How is that?"

"Better," he smiled. "You truly are remarkable; it is always necessary to tell the healers here where the injury is, and it takes them twice as long to actual heal it."

"It must be different on Vanaheim," she said, brushing it off; she didn't like putting all of the attention on herself. Changing the subject, she asked him teasingly, "Why are you out here on your own? I know myself how great of company books can make, but you'll make the people morose for lack of your presence."

He snorted dismissively, but his face darkened in a way that revealed his inner resentment. "An unlikely tale. As long as my dear brother is out there, those fools will not notice my absence."

Kenna moved her hand down so it was resting on his, and gave it a small squeeze. "Loki, you know that's not true," she said seriously. Thor seemed a bit more popular than his brother, that she had noticed, but in general they seemed to be treated about equally. Then again, she hadn't been here very long at all, and no one was going to slight a prince in public.

"It is," he said bitterly, and she felt his hand tighten under hers. "You may not see it now, but you will as you stay here longer. There's a reason everyone thinks it is a given you are going to marry Thor."

She looked him square in the eyes, every word coming from her lips loaded with firmness and emotion. "I think you are a hundred times the man your brother is, and anyone who disagrees can face my anger." Loki _was_ a better man than Thor, at least to her; to one who valued rashness and cockiness, Thor would win without question, but Kenna thought kindness, intelligence, and thoughtfulness, all of which Loki had shown himself to possess, were far more important.

Trepidation flickered in his eyes, and for a moment she was confused, but that moment didn't last. In a movement that somehow seemed both excruciatingly slow and faster than a flash of lightning, Loki leaned in towards her face, and she found herself leaning back, then joining her lips to his.

It started slow and gentle as they melded together with eyes closed, both of them unsure, but she felt the fire grow in him as surely as it grew in her, and their simple kiss changed into something far more intimate. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, entwining her fingers in his dark hair. He pulled her closer, placing his hands on her hips. Kenna had never before felt so wild, so alive – so complete. Here was someone whose very body moved with hers and whose body made hers sing and crackle. Whether it was lust or love she could not say, but whatever it was, it was perfection.

"I've never wanted anything so badly," she whispered longingly.

"Then take it," he said in an almost growl, kissing her jaw.

Kenna sighed as she touched his face. "I can't. I have duty, and I've already gone too far…I wish I could. You have no idea how much I want to."

Loki kissed her cheek with a soft passion. "You can, though. Choose me now. Walk back in there with me and tell them you've decided." Another kiss. "They will not say no to you."

She laughed uncomfortably, shifting a little away from him. "Loki, I…it has been but a day. Less than that even, I can't…"

"You did not love that? You did not feel yourself blossom at my touch?"

"No, I did, but…I barely know you, I haven't even properly gotten to know your brother…this is for _life_, Loki…" she murmured, her eyes open and letting all of her confusion show.

He stopped kissing her then, his face suddenly hard. "You do not want to commit to the second son until you have thoroughly surveyed the future king. I see."

"I am choosing my _husband_, I just want to get to know you first, get to know you _both_. I love you best now, I won't deny it, but I have to be sure. I have to be sure."

"You have to be _sure_?" he mocked scathingly. "You were pretty sure a few moments ago. I truly believed you were different, Kenna, but it seems to me you are like every other whore in this palace: perfectly content to love a man in the shadows, but afraid to be seen with him in the light."

That was when she felt herself snap. She rose abruptly, blinking back tears of frustration and anger. "Why do you have to be so _cruel_? I am trying, Loki, I am trying as hard as I can; is that not clear to you? Is that not good enough for you? No. Do not speak to me." Blue dress swirling, she turned and went back into the ballroom, both her head and heart more of a mess than they'd ever been before.

Why couldn't he stay sweet and tender? She was so sure of her feelings for him when he was like that. But as soon as that biting harshness came out and his walls went up, she didn't even know who she was dealing with. She couldn't deal with his confusion when she was so confused herself.

"Princess Kenna! Is something wrong?" Thor asked as he approached her, a look of concern knitting his golden brows together.

She pulled together a smile, and shook her head. "I am fine, but thank you."

Apparently she wasn't as convincing as she would've liked, for he stepped closer, placing his large, warm hand on her shoulder and saying, "If someone has wronged you, they will pay for it dearly."

A wry smile tugged on her lips, and she shook her head again, looking towards the ground. It seemed Thor did have some warmth to him after all. "It is fine. I am merely…tired, that is all; today has been a long day."

"Then let me escort you to your rooms," he offered gallantly. "I will apologize for your absence and inform everyone that you needed rest. Come, Kenna, you do need rest; I would not want you to fall ill."

"I suppose that would be fine," she said, her eyes flickering up to his. Things couldn't just be simple, could they. They slipped out of the ballroom and went back to her rooms.

Before leaving her, Thor kissed the back of her hand like a perfect gentleman. "Rest well, princess. I hope to see you on the morrow."

"And I you," she whispered to his back. Rubbing her temples – her mind was even more muddled now – Kenna collapsed on her bed and promptly fell asleep.


End file.
